Into what? I lied. My actual past is quite, well, florid, even blood stained (some of which was mine). For example, I never mentioned what I did to fellow who laid me open with a corn knife and I shan't as I wish to spare the sensibilities of the ladies present. Perhaps some evening after dinner, over cigars and brandy in the Gun Room I'll tell you, but not here.

Nor, for the same reason, will I go into the story of the young man who shot at me with a US Rifle, Caliber 7.62mm, M14. Or of rappelling down a cliff that was some 200 feet high using only clothesline (no harness). Or my time as a boatman on The River and the visits to Natchez-Under-The-Hill. Or the duels I fought while in college. I have alluded to my friendship with Sam Clemens, but I will not sully his reputation as he is in no position to refute what I might say.

I was brought up not to boast or brag and I adhere to the ways I was taught in my youth.